OTP Challenge: FrUK
by Angleterre97
Summary: So, there are 30 themes, but I'm to busy to be able to do one every day, but I'll try really hard to do one as often as I can. I'm excited for these little drabbles! Of course with things such as these the rating may change later on ;)
1. Holding Hands

**Theme #1: Holding Hands**

Francis had comfortable hands, while Arthur's own were always icy cold, no matter what he did. It was part of the reason that he always had them stuffed deep down in his jacket pockets.

"You know what they say _mon cher," _Francis had said one day as they walked down the street. "Cold hands mean a warm heart~"

Arthur had heard that before, never directed towards himself of course, but he'd heard the saying.

"Bloody ridiculous..." He had responded with. Francis had simply smiled, laughed lightly, and given his fingers laced with his own a light squeeze.

No one had ever held his hand, at least in that way. Not before he had met Francis. Sure when Arthur was a kid he would hold his parent's hands, and he would hold his little brother's hand when they were out and about. But holding Francis' hand...it was different. It was gentle and commanding and made him blush like a fool every time. He didn't know that hands could do that, in such an innocent way.

Francis remembers the first time he tried to hold Arthur's hand. He had met the stuffy British boy at school when he had moved to the small English town. Arthur was...intriguing. One day he had run into him at the market place. They both stood in the produce section; the Brit scrutinizing the radishes and he himself glancing across the heads of lettuce, not caring so much of an ounce for the vegetables at all. Francis swung his arms lazily at his sides, occasionally grazing the others hand. Arthur had slightly pulled his hand away, as if by instinct. Then after a moment he had made a bolder move and slipped his fingers to fit around the others, seeming almost absentminded about it. Arthur had flinched and whipped his head around to glare at him. He tugged his hand away instantly, but it had set in motion something strange. Francis continued to try to hold his hand every time they encountered one another.

And at some point Arthur had stopped pulling away. Maybe he had just given up on the thought that it would eventually stop, or maybe he had grown to tolerate and, perhaps, enjoy the others touch and company. Either way, something had shifted. Hand holding lead from one thing to another. Now when they went to the market, fresh out of high school and hand in hand, there was only one basket between them. Only one house hold to cook for.

Arthur had never understood why, but Francis adored his hands. Always holding, caressing, kissing the knuckles lightly when he wanted to turn on the charm. Something about Arthur's hands were magical in Francis' eyes. _Petit _yet strong, talented.

Yes, it was all magic. The magic of patience and persistence. The magic of light scarlet blushes, French charm and British insults. The magic of progress, acceptance, eventual returned 'I love you' s. But more than anything it was the magic of hands, and of holding them.

/OOO/

**So ran across this 30 day OTP challenge deal. This is the first of many little drabbles. I don't Think that I'll be able to do it all in the 30 day range, I simply don't think I have the time. But I'm gonna leave this one as Incomplete and add to it as I get from one theme to the other. Reviews? Follow if you're curious haha.**


	2. Cuddling

**Theme #2: Cuddling Somewhere**

"_Mon cher_, are you busy?" Arthur looks up from his spot on the bed over edge of his book.

"Does it look like I'm busy or not?"

"It looks like you are reading." To this Arthur didn't respond but simply turned to the next page, indicating that, indeed, the Frenchman was correct. Francis walks over and sits on the other side of the mattress, his side, and leans over.

"Do you mind?"

"_Non_, just trying to see what _mon petit lapin_ is so engrossed in."

"Well it's Hamlet, so you can shove off now."

Francis nuzzles his neck.

"I said shove off, you're blocking my light frog."

Francis snakes an arm around his waist.

"Frog, I mean it..."

The book is ripped from his hands.

"Francis!"

Said man instantly throws his other arm around the irritated Brit. "_Oui?_"

Arthur squirms and huffs and curses while the Frenchman holds him closer to his chest, breathing in the scent of the shampoo he had been using. It was the product that Francis had picked out especially for him. The fact he was using it made him quirk a smile simply at the thought.

"Oi, are you gonna just sit there and space out or are you gonna let me go?"

"Why should I?" Francis asks, coming back to the real world, away from gorgeous smelling hair. "You sit here and read your books every night and what am I suppose to do?"

"Francis, we've been living together for months, I assumed you had figured that out by now."

"Just tonight, _s'il vous plaît mom cher?_"

"No."

"Why not?" Francis is nearly pouting.

"I'm to bloody tired you git!"

"To Cuddle?"

"Cuddle?"

Francis smiles triumphantly at the puzzled and confused look on his lover's face. "_Oui_, cuddle." And with that he gracefully scoops the smaller man into his lap with a surprised yelp. He leans back into the goose-down pillows until the Englishman is nestled snugly on top of his chest and in his arms.

"F-Francis! Knock this off, I'm not some child!"

The Frenchman pretends to ignore him. "You look so cute when you blush _mom amour~"_

"Shut up..." Arthur mumbles as he resigns to his fate with a sigh. He could struggle, yes he could, but what use would it be? He still had to sleep with this man the whole night anyways.

"Why the sudden snuggly mood then?"

"Do I have to be in some sort of mood to snuggle you?"

"Urgh,you're ridiculous."

"And you cannot deny that you like this too~"

"I can deny it all I want thank you very much."

"Of course of course, that is why you're cuddling me back, _oui?_"

"...Shut up."

"_Je t'aim__e__,_Arthur~"

"I love you too" Arthur shifts a bit. "Francis?"

"_Oui?"_

"Er...we should, you know...could we...cuddle more often?"

Francis smiles to himself, and at his lover's blush, as if in victory. But it's warmer than that, more like victorious adoration.

"Absolutely, _cheri,_ absolutely."

/OOO/

**Well, day two! Not sure how this one is...**


	3. Movie Night

**Theme #3: Movie Night **

Really Francis, a horror movie? You have been hanging around Alfred far to much lately."

"Oh come on! You yourself are the one who said you were sick of my romantic comedies and...what did you call those other ones?"

"Chic flicks?"

"Yes, those. And now that I've found something new to watch on movie night you still find an angle to nag at me! Really Arthur?"

"Yes."

"Unbelievable. And you would suggest...?"

"James Bond, something from the Bourne Trilogy, Harry Potter-"

"You've seen those, every single one!"

"Doesn't make them any worse!"

Francis gave a frustrated sigh. "Would it really be so hard,_ mon petit lapin_, to watch this with me? Just this once?"

Arthur considers this for a moment, really thinks it over. "I get to pick the next three movies."

"That's fine."

"And you can't complain, no matter what I pick."

"I would expect nothing less."

The Brit shoots the other an irritated glare. "Urgh...fine. Put the disc in so we can get this over with."

/OOO/

Francis had known that he would probably have to compromise somewhat to get his little scheme to work out. Three weeks of Arthur's pick of movies he would have to endure. From Hogwarts to Middle Earth and back again, but he could handle it. Tonight would defiantly be worth it.

It was no secret that Arthur's younger brother, Alfred, was scared to pieces by horror films. Little did most people know that Arthur himself was equally put out by the blood, gore and suddenness of it all. The reason people didn't know? He avoided them them like the plague.

The opening credits run and the scruffy haired man sets his poker face. He thinks that Francis doesn't know his reason for disliking these movies, and he would like to keep it that way thank you very much! But, of course, the Frenchman already knows. Courtesy to Alfred and careful observation.

As the plot thickens and the tension rises an uneasiness rises up in Arthur, and it's evident on his face no matter how he tries to mask it. Francis takes notice and inches just a tad closer. Now, this movie, the title unimportant to either of them, is one of those horror movies filled with the paranormal. Demons, ghosts and possessions of the like fill the story line. The Frenchman thought that Arthur would at least appreciate that a bit, considering his love of such...strange things as those. And as figures materialize out of thin air, eyeballs roll back into skulls, and people are dragged away into misty darkness by unseen beings the Brit is shaking like a leaf on a tree, wondering why in all of holy hell he had agreed to watch this of all movies.

So when the lightning flashes and red eyes appear in the murky shadows of the T.V. Screen Francis opens his arms as Arthur flinches and takes refuge to hide his eyes from the menacing visions that fill them.

"You're just bloody awful..." He mutters into the taller mans sweater as said man's arms hug him closer. "If you wanted to snuggle so badly all you had to do was ask. Did you honestly think you need ed to scare the daylights out of me?!"

"Oh but _mon cher_, you know you would have said no~"

"So you resorted to this?!"

Francis gives a soft chuckle as he grabs the remote, flicking off the screen and leaving them in nearly complete darkness and silence.

"I hate you so much sometimes you horrible frog" Arthur says, a slight waver in his voice. Francis laughs quietly again as he stands, taking the smaller man with him in his arms. Knowing his way around the home he effortlessly takes them both to the bedroom, lying the still slightly shaken man on the mattress.

"You barely made it two thirds through the movie Arthur~"

"Oh shut up!" He spat back, crawling under the covers. " You _knew_! I don't know how...but you did! Now I'm gonna get nightmares you stupid git."

Francis climbs in on the other side, slinking an arm around the other. "Nonsense. You've never had a bad dream with me sleeping next to you _mon amour._"

"Yeah...whatever idiot." Francis places a kiss to the Arthur's temple before pulling him close, and smiling when he feels him curl in closer.

And, not that the Brit will ever want to admit it, he doesn't have nightmares that night, because he has two familiar, strong arms wrapped around him. They and the man attached to them are the root of all his frustration and often times embarrassment, but they are also, on occasion, his best defense against angry spirits and wandering ghouls. Stupid Frog.

/OOO/

**Yay! I updated...and I like this one!**


	4. On a Date

**Theme #4: On a Date**

A date can never be a simple thing, at least not when Francis Bonnefoy was involved. Arthur isn't sure why he still agrees to go on them.

It was all such a pain, because a simple evening out requires an all day preparation. It begins in the morning around 8 am when Francis will appear at the Brit's doorstep. Arthur will hear him banging on the door and groan as he rises to answer it, not bothering to give anything more than a glare at the beaming Frenchman when he lets him in. This is one of Francis' favorite parts, not that he doesn't enjoy it all.

He will usher Arthur into the bathroom where he is instructed to shower and clean up, and still being groggy and sleepy he will only mumble a few choice curse words before obliging. While he does this the long-haired blonde will don the apron that he had left at the others house and whip up a quick breakfast (Because when the Brit's stomach growls the man himself seems to mimic it in irritability).

When Arthur emerges, hair, body and teeth washed he only wears a fresh set of boxers and a white undershirt. He knows it would be pointless to get dressed, the other would only make him change. It always takes no less than and hour (Often times longer) for the Frenchman to pick out a suitable outfit for Arthur to wear on their date. It made him wonder at what time Francis himself got up to pick out his own fabulous clothing.

Food eaten and the few dishes done, Francis takes off the apron, returning it to it's hook and holding out his hand to the other. Arthur sighs before taking it, knowing what shall come next. He's been on plenty enough dates with the man and had figured out that no matter what he tried to do to get out of this part, it just wouldn't work.

Dress shirts, slacks, vests, suits and hats. It astounded the Brit. His wardrobe didn't change that much that often, and at least half of his clothes Francis had picked out himself. Part of him gets thoroughly annoyed by the process, the other knows that the Frenchman just likes to play dress up with him. And a small, minuscule part doesn't mind as much as he shows it does.

By the time Francis is satisfied with how his date is dressed it is late afternoon and they have yet to pick a place to eat. The Frenchman will offer many options up as they get into the car. Arthur will be beyond it all, saying things like 'It's up to you,' 'I don't really care,' and 'You pick.' Francis swears he only does this because he knows it drives him mad. But where he cannot get a response about places to dine, he will over the radio which will be tunned one way and the next until a station they can both agree upon is found. Usually this is the classical station.

Eventually, as the sun settles in the sky halfway between its peak and the horizon, the oncoming of twilight and then dusk just around the corner, they will pick a restaurant. Sometimes it will be classy and elegant, other times a dive tucked into a hard to fine somewhere. Either way they will take a booth for two and Francis will order for each of them a glass of one of their finest wines. Only one glass, mind you, because he didn't have any desire to schlep Arthur home buzzed over. The menus will come and after the waiter has taken their order they will first scold each other for their choices, whatever they may have been this time around, and will then slip into easy banter, conversation and debate.

Arthur will usually gripe about the service, and if the service is good the decor will be at his critical mercy. For Francis, it is always the food. How it looks, smells, tastes. There is always something that could be done better, cooked more, garnished with more finesse. To an untrained eye the two would come off as an uptight pair of restaurant critics instead of a couple in love. Yes, it was love, their own special brand of it that was undetectable to anyone but themselves at times.

The night will wind down with a short walk before they decide to turn in and away from the city life. Francis will drive home because Arthur will have insisted on a second glass of wine. By then, with a content, full stomach, the hours of picking out clothing and what not will seen ridiculous to the Brit. But, in any case, when Francis offers another occasion to go out on the town a few days from then Arthur will find himself smiling and nodding approval, sealed with a kiss. A silent promise that the routine would continue, as good things really should.

/OOO/

**Is it cheating that most of this is pre-date? Oh well, hope you enjoyed installment #4**


	5. Kissing

**Theme #5: Kissing**

Snow covers the ground of the small park. Children run about in their winter clothing, hurling snowballs and making angles in the white powder surrounding them.

Arthur had insisted on going on a walk and Francis, knowing of the other's love for snow, insisted on accompanying him. As they walk along the Brit idly talks about this and that and the slightly taller male is content to simply listen...and watch.

As pretty as it was, Francis was not watching at the snow as it fell or the children playing. No, his eyes rested their gaze upon his companion, or, more specifically, his lips. It was mesmerizing, just to watch them move and form words as he rambled on about gardening and novels and politics and who knows what else. Really though, the words and the topics were lost on the Frenchman.

A gust of wind blows through, chilling, and sends specs of white and long strands of blonde flowing. Arthur shivers and a look of concern washes over Francis' face. It's not lost on the shorter man.

"What is it?"

"You're cold, aren't you?"

"I'm fine." He responds nonchalantly, pulling his jacket closer around him and fully prepared to continue his monologue on the collapse of economics and other what not. But that hardly satisfied the Frenchman.

"_Non non non,_ you are. I told you to wear a warmer coat _mon cher._"

"Bloody hell Francis, I told you that I'm fi-"

"Your lips give it away, Arthur" This halts the scruffy haired man in confusion.

"My...lips?" Francis inwardly smirks

"_Oui, _they are starting to grow pale." He chuckles a bit. "If you're not careful they might just turn blue~"

They continue walking then, this time in relative silence aside from the crunching sound coming from their shoes.

The Brit appears to be thinking, brooding, until Francis thinks he catches a mischievous glint spark in a set of green eyes out of the corner of his own.

"If you're so concerned about me being cold," Arthur begins as they slow to a stop, the Frenchman turning to face him. "Then why don't you keep me warm?"

Francis isn't quite sure that he's heard him right until the Brit is upon him, lips locked with his own. He's shocked, but pleasantly surprised and kiss him right back.

Flecks of white gather in their hair as they stand in the middle of the of the path, arms entwined around each others waists and mouths moving together until many moments later when Arthur breaks the kiss and pulls back. His cheeks are rosy and whether it's from the cold or not neither can say for sure. The color has also returned to his lips, red and just a tad bit swollen. Francis pecks them with a chaste kiss before he disentangles his arms from around the other and takes his hand before they continue on.

The Frenchman is sure that it must have been the magic of winter that had made his _petit lapin_ suddenly so bold and ambitious.

Arthur looks over to him and gives him a rare, bright smile.

Bold, ambitious, kissing and smiling? No, for Francis there was certainly no room to complain.

/OOO/

**Ok, so I know the Theme is Kissing and that there is only one kiss but...I really liked this one, so...I don't care. Enjoy! **


	6. Wearing Each Others Clothes

**Theme #6: Wearing Each others Clothes**

The night had ended just as they liked it to: Long, passion filled, and exhausting. Neither could have complained. Except for when the sun began to stream through the curtains the next morning.

Arthur wakes first, groggily making his way to the shower. He takes off his boxers and steps into the steaming spray. On days like today when he has no where to be he will spend nearly half an hour in the shower alone. It hardly mattered to him if he used up most of the hot water. Francis liked quick showers, wasting most of his time on his hair instead. Besides, the shower was the best place to think.

As he emerges he takes a large blue towel and wraps it around his waist before grabbing a smaller white one and ruffling it quickly through his hair. When he exits the bathroom he is greeted with the most amusing of sights, and he is terribly happy that he had taken a shower so as he was fully awake to take it all in.

"I suppose this means I have you wear your clothes then?" The Bit asks in a teasing tone. Francis is wearing a guilty and startled expression accompanied by an incredible Scarlett blush as he stands at the foot of the bed, donned in the elaborate slashed, torn and splattered punk ensemble Arthur had been wearing the night before when they had gone to their friend Alfred's party.

"I...I..." He stutters, trying to find the words to explain. But how could he? At every chance the Frenchman would insult, critique, and make fun of the Punk style his lover often wore, and now he was caught red handed trying it on, red ripped skinny jeans and all. He slumps onto the bed as Arthur begins to chuckle and wander around the room, picking up Francis' own various pieces of clothing.

"You know, it just doesn't look right with out the piercings and make-up." The Brit comments. He's turned away from the bed, away from the Frenchman as he begins to put on the high fashion articles. Francis laughs a bit, a little more at ease that the Arthur hadn't laughed that much, or yelled at him for that matter.

"Piercings are your thing_ cher,_ but if you claim yourself as a beautician, by all mean." Arthur turns to him now.

"Did I get this right?" He asks. Francis stands and walks to him, giving a once over. He tugs on the white jacket to straighten it up, smooths the wrinkles on the slacks (Not without a pass over the backside, of course, earning a glare from the other). In all, Arthur looked positively stunning in his wardrobe.

"_Magnifique!" _He exclaimed happily when he was satisfied. Arthur smirks.

"Good, now this way." And with that Francis found himself being dragged down the hall and the down the stair until he was stopped in front of a certain door.

"The guest bath?" He asked, confused. The Brit nodded as he opened the door before going in and pulling open the lowest drawer in the vanity. Francis raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought that you borrowed it all from Feliks." He said with a small laugh. Surprisingly Arthur laughed as well as he opened the box containing various eye shadows, lip stains and applicator brushes among other things.

"These actually were a gift from Feliks, last year at Christmas."

"Really? Where was I?"

"Getting drunk with Gil and Tonio."

"Oh yeah." He replies, remembering the fond, if also a bit hazy, memory.

"Sit down." Arthur instructed, pointing to the toilet, lid shut. Francis obeys and sits down. "Ok, so close your eyes."

He starts with a powder foundation. Francis' skin is already so nice there is no need for the liquid kind. Next is the eye shadows, layered and blended for the desired effect. Eye liner, bold and dark, mascara, and finally product is applied to his lips, nothing to harsh, just enough to enhance the natural color. Arthur explains the reason behind using this and that and the other thing, and Francis can't help but smile.

"You know, If you ever needed a back up career..." He muses and Arthur is now the one to blush. He really was talented though, not getting so much as a tiny smudge of anything on either of their clothes (And considering the value of the outfit the other was wearing, Francis was grateful).

When Arthur was done he gave a '_Voila' _gesture and Francis looked his face over in the mirror. "I hate to admit it," He began as he gives a glance over to the other in the mirror. "But I don't look half bad in punk." The Brit smiled at his handiwork as he looked himself over as well in the expensive looking, tailored outfit he wares.

"Care to test it out on the town?" Arthur asked. Francis nods his agreement.

"But, when we get back," The Frenchman starts, slipping an arm around the other's waist as he leads him away from the mirror and towards the front door. "I want the color that is on my lips all over you~"

/OOO/

**So, just went out and sat on our boat parked in our driveway and typed this up. Pretty happy with this one :) Reviews?**


	7. Cosplaying

**Theme #7: Cosplaying**

If it had been October it could have been a Halloween party. If every single person had a mask it would have been a Masquerade. If any one else were hosting, it would have been just a costume clad get together. But this was Kiku's party, so it was a cosplaying event.

When Arthur had gotten the e-mail invitation from his Japanese friend he had been confused. Cosplay? What the bugger was that? But his friend Alfred (Who apparently cosplayed with Kiku quite often) explained it to him. So now here he was in a large, crowded house filled with food, loud music, and what seemed like the wardrobe from every Halloween store in the whole city. He himself had gone with something modest (Compared to some of the people, girls especially). Long black robe, red and yellow scarf, wand in hand.

"Arthur-san, your cosplay looks very nice." The Japanese man wore a simple kimono, choosing more to enjoy everyone else's cosplay than don anything flashy of his own. It was then that a knock from the door sounded over the music causing Kiku to politely excuse himself to answer it, leaving the Brit alone and, to be quite honest, feeling pretty awkward. This is _not_ what he could consider his comfort zone.

"Well aren't you looking just positively nerdy~"

Urgh. That voice. Of course he would have been invited as well. Just great.

Arthur turned to shoot a glare at the Frenchman, but it was lost and replaced by wide eyes as he took in the others outfit.

"Francis! Wh-what the bloody hell?!"

Said man smirked as he sauntered his way to stand next to the Brit, short plaid skirt swishing with his hips as he did so. White blouse with the top three buttons undone and long blonde hair in pigtails completed the look.

"You like?" He asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Arthur stuttered and cursed a bit at being startled like that.

"What on Earth are you _wearing_?!"

"Oh come on _mon cher_, I'm sure you aren't _that_ dumb. Even Alfred knew that I am a school girl."

"I know _that_, you git!" Arthur stuttered as he blushed from a mixture of irritation and embarrassment. "But...but..._why?"_

Francis smirked again, stepping back to strike as pose and show off his outfit. "Because it is sexy, _oui_?" He looked to the Brit for a response, but after a few moments of receiving none he stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. "Arthur doesn't think I am sexy?" Francis scoffed then. "Well I am far sexier than _you_, in that frumpy black, tasteless bath robe."

This brought Arthur back from his horror filled shock, face turning the color of a cooked lobster from anger. "How dare you say that about my costume!" He all but screeched, his fists balling at his sides. Francis laughed at this until...

"Ow!"

"Ha! That's what you get you damn frog!"

"Arthur! You shouldn't be using that thing for hitting people!"

"Oh yeah? What better use is there for it then?" Arthur felt rather triumphant at seeing the others distress.

"I could think of something~" Francis recovered quickly, drawing himself closer to the Brit than he had been before. Close enough for Arthur to smell the teeny-bopper perfume and see the tactfully applied pink and sparkle make-up adorning his face. Jeez, this wanker really went all out on his costume, or um, cosplay.

"Wh-what?" The Brit stuttered, his voice betraying him with a squeak. Did _no one_ else at this big party notice _any of this_?

"That thing is for casting spells, _oui?_" Francis gestured at the wand in the others hand. At this point the slightly shorter man found himself backed into the corner from the Frenchman's advance.

"Er...yes. What's your point?"

"Hmm...seems to work well. You've certainly put one on me~"

Arthur felt hands on his hips and he scoffed (Or squeaked).

"Francis, that is by far the _lamest_ pick-up like I have ever-hmph!"

Lame or not the Brit couldn't find, for the life of him (Cause he was trying _so so_ hard) a way of escape as the others arms wound around the back of his robe, lips molded over his own.

Francis pulled away with a cheeky grin, pigtails bobbing a bit as he giggled at the massive blush plastered all over the others face. With one arm still around his waist the slightly taller man began to play with the fringes of the others scarf.

"Kiku was right, this cosplay this _is_ pretty fun. We should do it more often~"

"Bugger _off_ you arsewipe!"

Francis just laughed some more as he turned to walked away, grabbing Arthur's hand and dragging him along, swishing his skirt all the while. And considering how the blush barely ever lessened on the Englishman's face the entire night, the Frenchman was sure that he would be saving this school girl ensemble for later.

/OOO/

**Ok this one I wasn't really sure how to tackle. I guess this could be considered, to some degree, as humor. Or something like that. Bleh, oh well, it's done haha. **


	8. Shopping

**Theme #8: Shopping**

"They're green."

"_Non,_ they are yellow."

"That is green."

"Yellow."

"Green."

"_Mon dieu_, are you blind? It's yellow."

"Well either way they're hideous."

Francis was sure he was going to explode. He should have known better than to drag Arthur along with him to buy new clothes. But the Brit needed them even more than he did (Not so much need as in want in his case...). Three hours of bickering and arguing and hopping from shop to shop in the mall had resulted in: Three pairs of shoes, five shirts, two scarves (Really frog, scarves?), three pairs of pants and a hat for the Brit.

And now, in the final store that hadn't already been savaged by the unusual couple, it all came down to the socks. Rather colorful ones at that.

"This is ridiculous. I'm just getting my normal socks."

"_Non_! Not those atrocious things! Your feet do not deserve that kind of torture!"

"Oh stuff it would you! You're so dramatic sometimes..."

"_Oui, oui_-Oh! Arthur look at that!" And suddenly the Frenchman was gone, tearing across the store to a rack of clothes, leaving the other to the socks (Of which he picked out the argyle ones he so adored).

When he finally catches up with his companion the Brit raises his eyebrows at him. "You're really going to wear _that?_"

"It would look good on me wouldn't it? But _no__n,_ I was thinking more for you _cheri."_

"...I am not wearing that."

/OOO/

"Come on Arthur, come out and let me see~"

"No."

"_S'__il vous plaît? _I picked it out, I should get to see!"

"Then _you _should have tried it on!"

Arthur looked at himself in the full length mirror provided in the changing stall. This was all just so horribly stupid in his opinion. The fact that he had agreed to try this...thing, on was even more stupid.

"I didn't even know that they sold this sort of stuff here..." He grumbled to himself.

"Ah! See? I told you that would look fabulous on you!"

"Francis!" The Brit whipped around to see the other had infiltrated the small changing stall.

"I have such good tast-

"GET OUT!" Arthur furiously tried to push the other out of the space while simultaneously trying to cover as much as himself as possible. He had tried this thing on to humor the man, though it didn't mean he wanted anyone to see, even him.

Of course Francis would have naturally expected something like that to occur, and he swiftly braced himself, planting his feet. And he, also of course, in one swift suave, calculated move had the others arms pinned above his head.

"Francis, KNOCK IT OFF!"

"Quiet down...you're going to get us kicked out of this store before we can buy that."

"We are _NOT_ buying this!"

"Do you really not like it _that_ much?" Francis asked with a pout. His grip lessening just a bit.

"Honestly frog, What about this did you think I _would _like?"

"Well maybe...The fact that I like it on you..."

"Oh please, don't start with those puppy dog eyes. That's a dirty trick."

"So mean! Accusing me of trickery..."

"I said don't start that. You know I don't do guilt..."

And there it was, the Frenchman's (Rather good) acting skills put to work.

"I guess I just thought that since...but _non _it's ok. If you really think that it's that horrible and all then I suppose-"

"Oh my god Francis just shut _up_!" Arthur pushed himself against the other, connecting their lips. Short and sweet, a few seconds later he pulled away. His arms were wound around the Frenchman's waist and his forehead rested upon his companions.

"If I agree to let you buy this monstrosity of an article of clothing with_ your_ money will you stop?"

"You want me to stop being myself?"

"I want you to stop being a whiny git...so yes."

"Mean!"

"I love you, ok? Now get out so I can change."

"I could help you change if you would like-"

"Francis, I swear-"

"_Je t'aime aussi~"_ And with a quick peck to the lips the Frenchman was out the curtain.

/OOO/

The cashier raised an eyebrow as the two men walked up and placed their items on the counter to purchase.

"Did you find everything alright...?" She asked hesitantly as she scanned the last item.

"_Oui_, we did thank you."

"Good...er, have a nice day gentlemen."

Honestly, since when did guys wear frilly pink v-neck belly shirts with argyle socks?

/OOO/

**Urgh. I really didn't know what to do on this one, like at all. What is wrong with me and putting my darlings in make-up and questionable outfits recently? I'm so sorry...I'll try to do better on the next one. **


	9. Hanging out with friends

**Theme #9: Hanging out with friends**

"Where is Arthur, _mi amigo?_"

"I bet he brushed us off, didn't he Franny?"

The Frenchman just sighed and shrugged. "He was too busy with work."

"That's such an unawesome excuse!" Gilbert exclaimed, flailing his arms for emphasis. "We've been planning this night out for a month! And he thinks he's just so much better that he can-oomph!"

Antonio smiled as he slammed his elbow into the albino's gut, effectively silencing him. "It really is too bad that he's so swamped. I bet he could use a night to let loose, you know?"

Francis nodded. He hated how much his boyfriend worked. How stressed he got. He often times wondered if his demeanor would be different if he had a low-stress job…probably not though.

"Well I'm not taking you out for drinks if you're gonna mope. Come on, let's go get him." Gilbert said impatiently."

"I'm not mopping."

"We can always just go out another night, _si_?" But the self-proclaimed Prussian was already dragging a protesting Francis out the door, with a sigh the Spaniard followed.

/OOO/

Arthur's eyes hurt. He had been sitting at his desk for hours in silence, the only noise being heard being the keys on his lap top and the scratching of his pen on paper. There were so many papers. With a groan he laid his head on the desk. If he could just rest his eyes for only a moment…

***BANG!***

The Brit started awake when the door to his office audibly cracked against the wall. He was met with a toothy grin and a set of red eyes.

"Morning sleeping beauty~"

"Gilbert! What the bloody hell?!" His chair screeched as he scooted as far back as he could. Catching his breath he then noticed Antonio standing behind the white-haired man, stifling a laugh and Francis looking utterly mortified.

Arthur glared. "Frog. What is the meaning of this?"

"We should be asking _you _that!" Gilbert interjected. "Sleeping on the job huh?"

The Brit just closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of all the times…. All he wanted to do was finish his paper work (Or go back to sleep.)

"He's just a little upset because you brushed us off." The Spaniard explained, offering a smile.

Arthur gave in return a rather confused look. "What the bugger are you talking about?"

"Our Dude's Night Out, you dipshit." Gilbert informed. "It's been planned for like ever!"

"It has?"

Francis could sense the Red-eyed man's frustration at the others apparent lack of remembering. He quickly stepped forward, placing a hand on each of his friend's shoulders.

"I may have, um…..failed to mention the occasion….to Arthur." To which they both turned and stared at the Frenchman.

"You what?" Antonio asked.

"You're kidding right?"

Arthur just looked up from his desk, even more confused. "What are you going on about?"

Francis ran a hand through his long hair and moved forward to sit on the edge of the desk.

"Look, eh, _desole_. I know that you two have been planning this for a while, but Arthur's so swamped with work and all…."

"So you just didn't tell me?" The Brit asked. Francis turned on the desk so his legs were hanging of the other side, next to Arthur's chair.

"_Oui._ You probably would have said no anyways. I figured that you would want this time to catch up…...

"_Gott _Franny you're such a freakin-oomph!"

"That's very sweet of you Francis, don't you think so too Gil?"

"Er…uh yeah. Really sweet."

Arthur looked about the room. Had his boyfriend really lied to his friends and pissed them off just for him? With one final sigh he stood from his chair and leaned into the still sitting Frenchman and placed a kiss on his lips.

"You are such a ditzy wanker sometimes, you know that?" Francis blushed at the words and looked away, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Give me a minute to grab my coat and we'll go, ok?"

Gil and Tonio smiled at each other as they all exited the room, voicing their shared opinion in unison.

"Drinks on Franny!"

/OOO/

**This could have come out better…I still like it a little though. I'm so bad at sticking dead on to the theme :P Francis ought to be the blushing one more often in my opinion. Though I think blush looks good on both haha. **


	10. Cat Ears

**Theme #10: Cat Ears**

Francis enjoys all sorts of holidays. Each one, no matter how big or how small, is a chance to decorate, be festive, and celebrate the day (and often the night) away.

Arthur on the other hand detests more or less every holiday. Most are far too loud, too obnoxious, too inconvenient (For getting smashed and having a hangover the next day is _far_ from convenient) and often times too expensive.

Though with most things there is always at least one exception.

"Do_ not_ touch this." Arthur said to Francis as he points to a large bowl of various sweets set on the small table near the front door. "It's for the children."

"I wouldn't dream of it~" The Frenchman replies airily. Though Arthur knows better. Everyone has their vices, and aside from fashion, hair-care products, fine cuisine and sex, Francis' is his love for chocolate.

Seeing his boyfriend's less than convinced expression, the long-haired blonde placed his hand to his forehead, feigning hurt.

"Oh knock it off you over reactive git." The Brit chastised, a slight hint of amusement in his voice. "Here, put these one." And he tossed to him what he was referring to.

"Cat ears?"

"Yes?"

"I have to wear these?"

"Yes, _with _a decent amount of clothing."

"This is all you could come up with? Really _mon cher?_"

Arthur leveled a glare at the other, positioning his own pair atop his perpetually messy hair.

"After last year I wont trust you to wear anything the least bit scandalous, Francis. Cat ears and fully clothed. End of discussion. This is a kid centered holiday after all, the least you could do is stay decent."

Francis only Shrugged, placing his in his blonde locks.

"Whatever you say, but either way you cannot deny that you enjoyed yourself last year~"

/OOO/

"Happy Halloween!" Arthur called to the last children of the evening as the dashed away from his house, giddy and excited by yet another piece of sweet bounty. With a contented sigh the Brit switches off the porch light and places the now empty candy bowl in the near-by kitchen. As he is about to walk back out into the living room though, he finds himself stopped in front of the large double-doored, stainless-steel refrigerator (That Francis, ace chef, just _had_ to have) and gave himself a once over. Reflected back at him was a image of a 20 something year old gentleman with lopsided cat ears. With a light chuckle he reaches up to adjust them (For Halloween only comes once a year, best to bask in it just a little longer, yes?) and as he does so he startles a bit as a second pair of cat ears slink up behind him, wrapping arms around his waist and head resting on his shoulder.

"_Bounjour mon petit chaton~"_ A heavily accented voice mumbles into his ear seductively, tinging his face pink with blush.

"And where the hell have you been all evening?" Arthur asks with a huff, half-heartedly trying to pull away, which only causes the Frenchman to tighten his hold on his catch.

"I was just upstairs, taking a little cat nap~"

To this Arthur rolled his eyes. "Really frog?"

"_Oui, _but I am no frog." He says as he turns the Brit so that they are facing each other. One hand placed on the shorter man's hip and the other gesturing to the pair cat ears. "And you, for tonight, are no longer _un petit lapin._"

"You really are a git" Arthur sighed, a smile tugging at his lips. He reaches up to adjust the Frenchman's ears. "Happy Halloween, love"

Francis smiles at the other, leaning in to steal a chaste kiss. "Care to join me for another cat nap, _cheri_?"

And the Brit blushes and smirks as he is lead to the stairs and up them. He had a funny feeling that this 'Cat nap' wouldn't involve that much napping at all.

/OOO/

**Ok, I'm sorry that this took so long and that it sorta sucks. School started and...well...I had no clue what to do for freaking cat ears. Reviews anyway?**


	11. Wearing Kigurumi

**Theme # 11: Wearing Kigurumi**

**{Young/Chibi!FrUk...AU}**

"Arthur!~"

Said child turns his head at the sound of his name being called, but his face instantly sets into a grimace at the sight of who had called it.

"What do you want frog face?"

Use to such a sour attitude, the older child simply smiles as he sets himself and the shopping bag he is carrying down on the front steps of Arthur's house that he was sitting on.

"I'm so happy to see you too, _mon petit._"

The young Brit says nothing to Francis but shifts a bit and eyes the bag sitting next to him. The French boy catches this and smiles.

"Expecting a present, _cher_?"

"N-No! Of course not! Why would I want one from you anyways?!" Arthur sputters out, cheeks red and eyes glaring. Why on Earth would he expect a present from Francis? Surly not because he gave him little gifts all the bloody time.

Chuckling a bit, Francis reaches his hand into the bag and withdraws a folded garment and hands it to his younger friend.

"Then I suppose you're out of luck~"

/OOO/

"You brought me a Halloween costume?"

Francis had complained of being cold, so (Against his will, yes of course) Arthur was forced to invite the French boy inside and up to his room.

"Well you can take it back, I wont be seen in public in this."

Francis pouts but then laughs as he takes the article from the younger boys hands, displaying it as he explains.

"It's not a costume, though you most certainly could wear it as one..."

Arthur glares, Francis continues.

"They're pyjamas."

"Pyjamas?"

"_Oui._"

The young Brit gives a confused look as he takes the 'Pyjamas' back and scrutinizes them further.

"It's a costume."

"Pyjamas."

"Costume."

"Pyjamas."

"Costume."

"Kigurumi."

"What?"

Francis laughs a bit as he pulls another garment from his bag, his own costume Arthur assumes, and continues.

"These are Kigurumi Pyjamas. Kiku, you remember him, _oui?_ They are from his home country."

Arthur nods his head in understanding.

"Now go put it on for _moi~"_

"No."

"Why not?!"

"It's dumb."

"I'll put mine on too."

"Go for it, I don't mind if you look like a weirdo."

Francis runs his fingers through his long hair. Difficult Brit...

/OOO/

"I hate you, I hate you so much frog face..."

"Ah, quite acting so sour...I can tell you love it."

Persistence, patience, negotiation, bribery. Finally Francis has gotten to see the result of his purchase of sleepwear.

"This is stupid."

"You look so cute though!"

"This thing has ears..."

"_Oui."_

"...and a tail..."

"A cute little fluff ball~"

"I can't believe you talked me into putting on a bunny costume."

"For the last time they are pyjamas!"

"Whatever, I'm taking this off."

"_Non non non_! I haven't put mine on yet, just wait."

"Fine."

/OOO/

"Arthur!"

Allistor Kirkland, oldest Kirkland boy, returns home from a long day of work. He returns to the home that he shares with the three younger brothers he takes care of. Dylan sits in the living room, watching a medieval special on the history channel. Owen is in the kitchen making popcorn for him and his brother, and Arthur is...

"Oi, where's the runt?"

"I dunno." Comes the reply from the couch.

"Owen, where's-"

"He's upstairs with the neighbor boy."

Allistor, knowing exactly which neighbor boy he's talking about, stalks up the stairs to make sure his little brother hasn't ripped the poor French lad's hair out.

What he finds instead of chaos is horribly amusing.

He returns downstairs.

"Stop whatever you're doin and come look at this!" He commands his brothers. The three trek back up to Arthur's room and it's all that the younger two can do to stifle their laughter.

Curled up together on the young boy's bed, one clad in a bunny kigurumi and the other in a frog one are Francis and Arthur.

"Pictures for years of blackmail?" Owen offers. Allistor smirks.

"Do you even need to ask?"

/OOO/

**I am so sorry this took so long and that it's lame. Honestly, I didn't even know what a kigurumi was before I got to this theme. I love Iggy and his brothers. I didn't include Ireland because I consider Ireland a full sister to N. Ireland (Owen) and only a half sister to the others. I would have thrown in Sealand and Isle of Man too...I was just lazy. Reviews?**


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